


Meet with Triumph and Disaster

by bearinapotatosack



Series: Harry Potter [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Chronic Pain, Coping, Drug Use, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fred Weasley Lives, Gambling, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Marijuana, Nightmares, Quidditch, Running, The Weasleys Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-24 16:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21620623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bearinapotatosack/pseuds/bearinapotatosack
Summary: Bill got angry. Charlie smokes weed. Percy drinks alcohol. Fred makes jokes. George gambles. Ron eats. Ginny exercises.Or rather.I paint out the Weasley sibling’s coping mechanisms- unhealthy or not.
Relationships: Fleur Delacour/Bill Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Lee Jordan/Fred Weasley, Marcus Flint/Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood (hinted)
Series: Harry Potter [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1219116
Comments: 20
Kudos: 149





	1. Angry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill gets angry

Bill got angry. 

When he was young. Now he’s an adult. And probably when he’s older. 

His hands, jaw, eyes, clenched. Knots pulled tighter, tearing him casually apart in their nonchalant laughter.

Bill also threw things. Glasses. Books. His wand.

Never aiming; a failed Robin Hood. But still he was numb to the chaos he revelled in.

Fleur cooled the rage. Put out the fire. Soothed the burn. 

Gentle smiles and even gentler skin proving to himself that he was- in fact- human. Capable of love after he left his family behind like an explorer chasing a myth.

The last few years powered the flames. From endangered siblings, to the return of _him_ , to his attack. The funeral pyre grew ever higher.

But what were they burning?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve been pondering this idea for a while and decided to make it really short so I would actually write it, lol.


	2. Smoke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie smokes weed.

Charlie smokes weed.

He’d started in his youth. With the whirlwind that was Nymphadora Tonks.

Ease. Relaxation. Joy.

It flooded his veins like the intoxicants. Swirling around, mirroring the smoke as it left his lips.

The stabbing, gnawing, piercing cold of Romania. Soothing his burns. Clearing his face.

All blown away by the singular puff of a spliff. A joint. Or whatever you call it.

He made images in the fog. Dragons. Broomsticks. Cauldrons.

It was a kind of magic. A magic he could never hone or acquire. Only making itself present when he wasn’t sober.

His head drooped. Eyes threatened to close. Brain disconnected.

During the war, and after, he feared being discovered. 

The munchies  _ were  _ irresistible. Along with his mother’s cooking. 

He couldn’t remember the looks, questioning and harsh. 

But he didn’t care. Ignorance is bliss after all. 

And so is cannabis. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love the headcanon that Charlie smokes weed, hope you enjoyed this!


	3. Liquor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Percy is an alchoholic

Burning. Distracted him. 

Buzzing. Distracted him.

Bawling. Distracted him.

All unlucky side effects of alcoholism. Being an alcoholic. Of having a _problem_.

He started slowly. Trickling and tiptoeing downhill. The walk before the run.

The denial that apprehended any possible recovery. And then he spiralled out of control.

Horrendously.

One bottle of wine wasn't enough. Not for _Perfect_ Percy. That was merely a warm up.

Tolerance grew traction. Evenings spent making excuses and drinking two bottles of liquor?

When did he start drinking that?

The million galleon question. 

Boyfriends, all caring and supportive, couldn't touch him. On his glorious high horse. 

It's a well known fact that alcohol makes you act in strange ways.

But what if he had always acted strange?

Destiny. It was all destiny. 

Fate. The indestructability of monstrosity. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erm, yeah, apparently a big headcanon of mine is alcoholic!Percy. So here you go!


	4. Laugh

> Laughter is the best medicine.

Everyone needs some form of medicine.

So. Why. Aren't. They. Laughing.

They say his jokes hurt, that he's jabbing. But they're wrong. Not him, definitely not him.

Lee chuckles most of the time- most of the time. Yet even he runs out of patience. 

Joy turns to spite. Spite turns to annoyance. And then they argue. 

Not often. But occasionally.

Sometimes Fred can't laugh. George tries and Lee tries and Ginny tries.

An attempt isn't a success.

The mirror giggles, bellows as it chips away at his self esteem. At how the pain takes over him.

So he laughs. And laughs. And laughs.

As the tears choke him, scorching pain ripples his back, nightmares flood his mind. 

The mirror jeers. Dark. True.

> Laughter is the best medicine.


	5. Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George likes to gamble.

_Flick_. The cards flew from one hand to another.

Travelling from multiples of hands, multiple ways, multiple times. 

Unpredictable routine distracted him from what he repressed. In what hope?

Maybe he could deal away the pain, the mental stress. Or perhaps trade them in for something better. 

Like that tasty looking 28 galleons that were glinting sneakily at him. 

It had all begun with a shady ally in an equally shady pub. They let him win, once, twice, three times?

They meant: a wrinkly goblin, a low looking lycanthrope and a few other witches and wizards who drifted in and out of the shadows. 

No one spoke, merely masked hands from the cloud of darkness. Darkness.

It was everything. Everywhere. And inside everyone.

Particularly him.

But he could keep it at bay, swap his heartbreak with the suffering of one of the misplaced hands. 

He would delve in it, head first, then lose it all the next night. Win it the next, and lose it.

So on and so forth. Swapping and reconnecting. For the unforeseeable future.

Purely for the temporary convenience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I struggled for George, for all the other siblings I went through the most common coping mechanisms- anger, drugs, alcohol, laughter etc. But when it came to George I was stumped but then I thought of gambling and went with it.
> 
> Also I'm going off the proportions mashable.com use where 1 Galleon= $25, 1 Sickle= $1.50 and 1 Knut= $0.05.


	6. Gorge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron eats.

One thing Ron remembered predominantly was the hunger. 

At no point in his life had he felt hunger like it. Food was always on the table. One the few constant necessities to the Weasleys.

Succulent beef joints, packed pies, steaming vegetables and rich cakes layered with piping hot custard. He couldn't count the times he'd fell asleep, stomach grumbling, mouth watering.

After the war however, something was eternally empty. Wrong. Ever present. 

Food was his medicine. 

His mind didn't differentiate. All he needed was something to fill the gaping pit inside.

Bunches of bananas, grapes and berries disappeared. Half a loaf of bread? Used for sandwiches- obviously.

Ron tried to stop himself, maybe sit back down, visit a friend or something. The looks Hermione would sometimes give him when she came home were convincing enough.

But. The. Hole. Was. Still. There.

Deep down, it never moved. He talked about it to Ginny, Harry and Hermione.

Yet it was there. Always. 

When the sun first peaked his head over the horizon to when the moon hung weightless in the sky. He was always devoid of everything.

His conclusion was to continue. Until further notice. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter!
> 
> I knew from the start that I wanted Ron to stress eat and kind of have an eating disorder. We see him eat a lot so I was interested in the idea that he eats to feel something and try to fill the gaping hole inside himself. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this!


	7. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ginny needs to exercise.

Her childhood had been racing. Speeding winds. Biting cold.

Half of her life flew by on a broom. She'd played every Quidditch position. Ran every inch of her family's land. 

Hogwarts was greater, infinite lands to map and hours of sports to play. She was sure this was better than heaven. 

But  _ he  _ entered. Sticky poison reaching every aspect of her life. Even her love of sports.

The after effects were a staple of her. As with the exercise, the Quidditch, the running. Ginny welcomed the distractions from  _ then _ .

Then  _ he _ was back. Bigger. More dangerous. Not just in her head.

She ran further, away from her issues and the concerns of society. Far from the ignorance of all the officials.

People came and went, much like the wind that rushed past her ears daily.

Drumming like blood. Beating like her heart. Whipping away every speck of negativity as her hair bruised her neck.

She knew it wasn't healthy. Torturing her body, arms, thighs, torso, so viciously, maliciously. 

No one had answers though. Not about Harry, or Voldemort. Or why she loved the itching, burning, dizziness of pushing herself.

There was no advice. Everyone left, no one's life was certain.

So, she ran, swam, flew, hit. Did everything to distract the pain.

Maybe she vomited now and then, or her limbs ripped in agony day after day. It helped.

It helped and that's all she could do. Help herself so she could help others. And win the war.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is greatly appreciated, your comments and kudos give me life!


End file.
